Chapter Summary: It’s been six months since you met Giyuu.
Word Count: 2,560
Content Warnings/Tropes: second person POV, mild cursing, mention of sex, suggestive content/dialogue in the second scene, fluff
Author’s Note 1: This fic is set in the Kimetsu Academy AU.
Author’s Note 2: Feel free to inform me in the comments of any spelling/grammar errors you find. I’m also open to constructive criticism as long as you’re not rude about it.
Author’s Note 3: If there’s any content warnings anyone thinks I should add, let me know!
Author’s Note 4: If anyone wants to be added to the tag list, let me know!
Author’s Note 5: Thank you to everyone who liked the forth chapter! 😊
Link to Chapter 4
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February eighth is Giyuu’s birthday.
Since his birthday is on a Wednesday, he’s going to postpone celebrating with his friends until Friday night, which means you won’t have to deal with any awkward first meetings when you drop by his place in the middle of the week.
In the time that you’ve known Giyuu, you’ve learned that he is a simple man; he’s not one to want extravagant gifts or over-the-top gestures. So you know that he will appreciate you bringing his favorite food (with a side of birthday cake) and a single gift.
And you’re completely right.
When Wednesday night comes along, you show up at Giyuu’s door. He seems surprised that you decided to come by, since he expected to see you on Friday, but he’s pleased to see you nonetheless.
He reacts to the salmon daikon with the same adorable smile as always, but there’s an extra spark in his eye when he sees the box of blueberry cake.
“There’s more,” you tell him, revealing the gift box from behind your back.
Giyuu’s smile widens just a bit, a small but clear sign of his excitement. He takes the box from your hand, uniting the ribbon and peeling off the tape to reach the cube-shaped object underneath.
Giddy, you watch him closely, hoping for a happy reaction for him.
Giyuu’s face changes to shock when he discovers a box for the Apple Watch SE 3 under the wrapping paper. He gapes at the box in his hands for a moment like he can’t believe it exists.
“I couldn’t possibly—”
“Don’t you dare,” you cut him off, “tell me you can’t accept it.”
“It’s too expensive—” he tries to insist.
You cover his mouth with your hand. “If it makes you feel better, you can buy me something equally expensive when my birthday rolls around—or more expensive—feel free to one-up me in the gift giving department.”
Giyuu nips at your palm to make you remove your hand. He looks between you and the box in his hands like he doesn’t know what to do, before his face relaxes in what you can only identify as a resolved expression.
“Twelve-nineteen,” he blurts suddenly.
Confused, you blink at him. “What?”
“The code to my apartment lock.”
You realize immediately where the numbers come from—Giyuu was twelve and Tsutako was nineteen when their parents died, but you know better than to bring that up right now.
You look over your shoulder at the front door, eyes honing in on the ten buttons and keyhole that form the electronic lock. “You don’t think it’s too fast? This is the equivalent of you giving me a key.”
Giyuu shrugs. “We’ve been moving too fast since the day we met.”
He has a point. When you consider how you slept with him before even going on a date first, the idea of him giving you a key after six months of dating is slow in comparison.
“Besides, I have no intention of slowing down with you.”
How does this man say the sweetest things with a straight face? There’s no hint of a blush nor smile, just the same impassiveness he wears most of the time.
And yet…
The way Giyuu verbally expresses his affection in such a matter-of-fact way makes you believe there’s nothing but honesty behind his words. It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach each time he does it.
“Before I know it, you’ll ask me to move in with you,” you giggle.
A smirk dances at the edge of Giyuu’s lips. “Careful, I might get ideas.”
A warm sensation spreads from your chest all over your body. “I would have been happy with a simple ‘thank you,’ you know.”
Giyuu’s eyes turn soft. “A simple ‘thank you’ isn’t enough to show how much I appreciate having you in my life.”
If this man doesn’t stop giving you the warm and fuzzies! Your heart can only take so much.
Your boyfriend places the box on the kitchen table next to the food and pulls you into a hug. “You can come over whenever—you don’t have to ask. You’re welcome here anytime.”
You melt into his embrace.
It’s this moment when you realize that you’re falling in love with Giyuu Tomioka.
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The day after Giyuu’s birthday, you meet his coworkers.
You stayed over the night before. While that’s nothing unusual, you typically spend the night on weekends since he has work on weekdays. But your boyfriend didn’t want you to leave last night, which led to a pleasurable night in each other’s arms before you both fell asleep, not to mention the early morning quickie before he left for work. He reluctantly pulled out of you when his morning alarm started beeping and told you to go back to sleep, so you snuggled into the covers and allowed yourself to drift off again. You didn’t fall back asleep until after he left, which was why you felt his kiss on your cheek before you heard the apartment door close.
Now, after waking up and taking a shower, you put on some clothes, and make your way to the kitchen for some brunch…only to spot the bento on the kitchen table.
Did Giyuu make this for you? Or did he forget his lunch?
Glancing at the clock, you see that it’s a few minutes until midday. If you remember correctly, the lunch period at Kimetsu Academy starts at noon. If Giyuu did forget his lunch, you better take it to him soon. But first, you want to double-check, so you walk back to your boyfriend’s room, grab your phone, and give him a call.
The line rings a few times before he answers. “Hello?”
“Hey. Did you buy lunch on the way to work?” you ask him.
“No. I made a bento this morning. Why?”
“Because you left said bento on the kitchen table.”
You hear shuffling from his side of the call. He’s probably looking through his bag. “Damn.”
“It seems I’m making a lunch delivery today,” you giggle.
“You don’t have to—”
“Too late!” you cut him off, “I’m already on my way. I’ll see you soon.”
You hang up before he has the chance to reply.
After fixing yourself up to look decent in public, you put the bento in your tote bag, slip on your shoes, and head to Kimetsu Academy.
The journey to the private school doesn’t take long, maybe fifteen minutes or so. Giyuu should have a comfortable amount of time left to eat, given the hour-long lunch period in the school’s schedule.
Once you arrive at Kimetsu Academy’s front entrance, you text Giyuu to come meet you. The school doesn’t allow uninvited visitors, so you play it safe and stay on the sidewalk. You check out the section of campus that you can see from the gate; two three-story buildings stand tall beyond the barred boundary. The whole campus takes up a whole city block, so you know there are more facilities behind the two structures you can see. You feel curious about your boyfriend’s place of work, wondering what other features this large campus has.
After three minutes of waiting, you see Giyuu jogging out of the building on the right. You smile, happy to see him again even though you saw him earlier this morning.
He greets you with a hug, which you happily return. “Hey you.”
Angling your face, you press a kiss to his neck. “Hi.”
He smiled against your temple. “Thank you for this.”
You sit your chin on his shoulder. “It’s no problem. I was mostly lounging in your bed anyway. I needed a reason to stretch my legs.”
Giyuu hugs you tighter. “If you’re still there when I get home, I’ll give you plenty of reasons to stretch your legs.”
“You still have enough energy for more after this morning? You’re insatiable, you know that?” you giggle.
“You know you like it,” Giyuu whispers against your lips.
“Of course, I do,” you murmur before closing the centimeter between your lips.
You don’t intend for the kiss to last long, maybe a few seconds, but Giyuu places a hand on the back of your head, deepening the lip lock, and you can’t resist twirling your tongue around his.
“What the hell?”
The shout startles you and Giyuu out of the kiss. The both of you look off to the side to see a group of people staring at you and your boyfriend with shocked expressions.
When did they get here? Were you that caught up in the kiss that you couldn’t hear seven pairs of footsteps come up next to you?
“What? The? Hell?” a man with white hair and scars on his face yells again; his disbelief obvious.
The frown on Giyuu’s face gives you the impression that he’s annoyed with his coworkers for interrupting his time alone with you. “Why are you all here?”
“We saw you and your girlfriend from the window,” a woman with two butterfly clips in her hair explains, “so naturally, we all wanted to meet her!”
Sighing through his nose, Giyuu releases his hold on you, allowing you to face the seven people waiting for you to properly introduce yourself.
Giving the teachers a friendly smile, you tell them your name. “It’s nice to meet you.”
One by one, the seven strangers tell you their names and what classes they teach at the high school. A couple of them, whose names you now know are Sanemi Shinazugawa and Obanai Iguro, give off a hostile vibe; they keep eyeing Giyuu with distain, and you don’t like it. Why did they come down here just to glare at your boyfriend? Giyuu doesn’t seem to feel bothered, so you’ll keep quiet about it for now.
“So, how did you two lovebirds get together?”
Uzui’s question brings you out of your thoughts. You glance at Giyuu with a teasing smirk, making him sweat-drop.
“Don’t tell them!” his eyes scream at you.
Chuckling at Giyuu’s panicked micro-expression, you glance back at the teachers. “We met at a bar, I asked him out on a date, and we’ve been together ever since.”
You watch Giyuu release a breath of relief and suppress your laughter.
“How long ago was this?” Rengoku chimes in.
Tapping your chin, you do some quick counting in your head. “Six months ago as of last week.”
Shinazugawa snorts scornfully. “You’ve had a girlfriend this long and never said anything, Tomioka? Are you that stuck up to think we don’t deserve to know?”
Giyuu’s confused face informs you that whatever problem the angry-looking man has with your boyfriend, it is likely one-sided.
Time to tell off a prick.
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you start before Giyuu has the chance to speak.
Feeling everyone’s eyes watching, you cross the short distance to stand directly in front of the scarred man.
“I don’t know what your problem with Giyuu is—and I don’t really care—I will not tolerate anyone badmouthing my man in front of me, so you will either check your tone, or go back inside. If you don’t like Giyuu, why are you even here?”
Switching your glare to the heterochromatic-eyed man on Shinazugawa’s left. “Same goes for you too. You may not have said anything yet, but I can feel your hostility from a mile away. Knock it off, or leave.”
Turning on your heel, you walk back to Giyuu’s side.
Stunned silence echoes through the group as they gape at you. It crosses your mind that they may not like you after this, or think you’re rude, but you don’t give a damn; you’re fine if you don’t make friends with Giyuu’s coworkers.
Then again, Giyuu told you he isn’t close with his colleagues. Maybe Shinazugawa and Iguro are the reason for that?
A loud snort drags you out of your inner monologue.
“She sure put you two in your place,” Uzui laughs.
“Shut up!” Shinazugawa snaps at him. Iguro simply glares at the flamboyant man.
Goto snickers beneath his mask. “The looks on their faces—they were not ready!”
Himejima tilts his head in the direction of the scarred man’s voice, a reproachful frown on his face. “An unfriendly demeanor does not give a polite first impression, Shinazugawa, Iguro.”
The aforementioned men wilt slightly at the words, causing Uzui and Goto to crack up even more.
Amongst the humor, you feel a hand on your back. Looking up at Giyuu, you’re met with the most enamored expression you’ve seen on him outside the bedroom.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Giyuu whispers close to your face, making sure the others don’t hear.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Uzui stop laughing and angle his head to watch you and your boyfriend curiously. You ignore him.
Bumping your nose against Giyuu’s, you murmur, “You would do the same for me. Plus, you need to learn the art of checking your peers when they have a nasty attitude. I might as well give you an example to follow.”
Giyuu’s lips quirk up. “Thank you.”
“Tomioka’s smiling!”
Yet again, Uzui’s loud voice breaks you out of your personal bubble.
Rengoku’s eyes blaze with enthusiasm. “A rare slight indeed! I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile before.”
“If anyone can make Tomioka smile, it would be his girlfriend,” Kocho muses.
Shinazugawa huffs irritably, and Iguro fixes his venomous glare off to the side. You narrow your eyes at them, but don’t say anything since they’re staying quiet.
Your gaze floats over the other teachers. “Why exactly are you all so interested in me and Giyuu?”
“Though Tomioka has worked here for many months, we don’t know much about him. He tends to not talk about himself,” Himejima answers.
“Maybe that’s because some of you show blatant hatred towards him? I wouldn’t talk to you more than necessary if I had to deal with such malice all the time,” you accuse with a falsely polite tone.
The teachers sweat-drop.
Goto waves his hands placatingly. “Besides Shinazugawa and Iguro, the rest of us have no problems with Tomioka. We just want to know him better.”
They make it seem like Giyuu is a complete stranger to them. Is he truly so closed off at work?
Turning to face your boyfriend, you ask, “Do they even know that yesterday was your birthday?”
Exclamations of shock follow your question, telling you what you need to know.
Rengoku’s smile falters. “Tomioka’s birthday was yesterday?”
You nod at the flame-haired man. “It was, we’re going to celebrate tomorrow with his best friends, his pseudo-dad, and his brother-in-law.”
More cries erupt from Giyuu’s fellow teachers, this time confused ones.
Apparently, they don’t know that info about Giyuu either. No wonder they wanted to interrogate you, they probably thought it would be the only way they could learn about their sullen-looking comrade.
Even still, dealing with all these eccentric personalities at once is a bit much. “And that’s my cue to leave!”
Reaching into your tote bag, you hand Giyuu his bento, give him a kiss on the cheek, and hightail it back the way you came. “Bye! I’ll see you after work!”
“Don’t you dare!” Giyuu shouts.
You cackle as you dodge Giyuu’s attempt to grab you, leaving him to deal with the nosey group of teachers on his own.
Oh he's devastated. He got word from your crow when he was recovering at the butterfly mansion that you had been found dead by kakushi after your last mission. And his initial reaction was just quietly bursting into tears in his bed that he was resting in. He thought about you in your last moments, if you were scared, if you were thinking about him.
The injuries he had ached as his sobs shook his whole body, you were out there fighting, dying while he was lying in bed asleep. He was so frustrated and angry with himself. He should've gone with you. He could've helped you even if he was injured.
He carries your death with him everywhere he goes just like he does with his family. He misses you every day and he always keeps you in the back of his mind and gives him even more of a reason to want to defeat Muzan.
Inosuke
He doesn't believe it at first. You? his strong partner? No way, the kakushi had to be mistaken. But when the kakushi brought your body back for burial and he saw your body his initial reaction was anger. Angry that you were gone and he couldn't do anything to help, that he couldn't save you. For the first time in a while, his confidence had faded and he truly felt useless.
He trained harder after your death; he carried you in the back of his mind and it pushed him harder to get stronger. He acted strong and confident to everyone else and like he was taking your death well. But in reality, it ate at him constantly.
Zenitsu
He immediately burst into tears when he found out. The one moment the kakushi said you were gone he couldn't process anything else; he didn't hear what happened or how you died all he knew was that you were gone and that's all he honestly needed to know. He didn't want to hear what your last moments were like because he knew it would just make him feel worse.
He didn't push himself to train harder. The first few weeks of you being gone he didn't really do anything. He just stayed at the butterfly mansion not taking any missions or going out to train with the others. He had to start taking missions again after a while, but he didn't push himself to try and be better. You were what made him want to be stronger and with you gone it felt like nothing mattered anymore.
Thank you so much for reading! Requests are always open!
IM CRYINGGG not u sending asks to urself pretending to be other ppl supporting u😭😭 u put SOO much effort into this account and you’re still irrelevant….🥹 get ur ass off that moldy bed and wash ur stanky pussy😳😳 or maybe start applying for jobs😳
You know that genmui shippers are just as guilty of being cringe and mischaracterizing both characters, right?
No we not we the only ones who understood him and that why gen mui is the only ship that make sense we don't have to mischaracterize the stfu and keep being maaad my ship good
Hashira Men x Hiding Their Feelings (Featuring a meddling Tanjiro)
this is based on a this post - and i was happy to oblige!
characters included; kyojuro rengoku, giyuu tomioka, sanemi shinazugawa (if you want the other three i'm happy to do a part two - but this idea seemed best with these three)
Kyojuro Rengoku
You and the flame pillar had done well to avoid each other for the last few weeks; but it seemed that was coming to an end. Kyojuro and you had always worked closely together. You were promoted as Hashira near the same time, and were just different enough to be complimentary.
You thought that those weird butterflies you'd feel on those late nights under the stars were a fluke - proximity over actual endearment.
But who could not love that man?
It came to a head a week ago, in the Butterfly mansion recovering from a difficult mission.
Rengoku had been laid on the bed when you walked in the room, your own wounds extensive but nowhere near the damage he had taken. He was sitting up, though. That persistent smile on his face.
"Kyojuro."
"Hello, Y/N. Are you sure you should be up? You were quite injured."
You were silent. Just a foot into his room, but you were frozen. The sound of his blood dripping onto the stone floor echoing in your head. You thought that you were okay. Slayers didn't carry moments like this so heavily. Blood was a random part of your day. But his blood? It had done something to you.
"Y/N?" He asks after you haven't answered him, the slightest bit of a furrow in his brow. "Are you alright?" He's shifting in his bed like he's going to try and stand.
Was this really the moment you were realizing that you loved this man? Really loved him? Your world was tilting on its axis, and you had to flea.
"I'm fine, just a bit light headed. You're right, I shouldn't be up. I'm so glad you're okay." You're out the door before he can ask after you again, the sound of it sliding shut cutting off his worried questions.
You needed to figure this out.
--
Kyojuro hadn't been closer to you than opposite sides of the room in weeks and it was gnawing at him, bit by bit. The upset look on your face in that healing room stuck with him as he laid in bed at night. Had he done something?
He was a coward for not chasing after you, and even more still for not approaching you these few weeks. He told himself he was giving you space. If you were upset with him, perhaps that was best.
But it wasn't. He just wasn't ready for the reality of his feelings. As someone who loved passionately, he could not believe that he had not noticed the depth of what he felt for you sooner.
Now that he had, he must say that it was almost overwhelming. That, coupled with your sudden hesitance to be around him, led to him being so unsure that he just sat to the side.
But oh, how he missed you.
You were both at the same eatery, considering the lack of options near the base. You had looked physically pained when you walked in and saw him, choosing the table farthest away. Rengoku swallowed thickly, wanting nothing more than to join you for this meal and explain everything - but it seemed like you wanted nothing to do with him.
"Mr. Rengoku!" The voice is the boyish lilt of Tanjiro Kamado. He's stood to the side of Rengoku's table, a polite smile on his face. "Do you mind if I join you for a moment, sir?"
Shaking off his stupor, the older man nods. "Yes, of course, young Kamado! One could always have a partner for a meal." He pushes some of his generous portions toward the boy and resumes eating his meal.
Tanjiro nods in thanks and grabs his chopsticks. "Why aren't you eating with Y/N? I see them across the restaurant, but I don't know if I've ever seen you two sit apart."
He says it so matter of fact that Rengoku almost chokes on his bite. He swallows with a cough, giving him a small smile.
"We uh, are just having some issues right now. I'm not sure how to broach the subject."
Tanjiro blinks, a naive look on his face, before he has an idea. "I'll go grab them and we'll get this sorted! Life is short, Mr. Rengoku, too short to be having misunderstandings!"
The protest is only half out before Tanjiro is at your table, and it takes less than ten seconds and an unsure look for you to join him at Rengoku's table.
It's immediately akward.
Rengoku doesn't greet you. Half because he feels you were forced to be there and half because he feels as though a cat has his tongue. What a strange feeling, to be without words when they usually came so naturally to him.
"I'm worried about you two." Tanjiro says simply. "What's going on? You're a strong team! We have to preserve that."
You swallow thickly, wanting nothing more than to sink into the floor beneath you.
You couldn't refuse Tanjiro's request, that sweet kid. But Rengoku must be even angrier with you than you thought. He didn't even greet you when you came over, a thin lipped smile thrown your way instead.
He had never not boisterously announced his thankfulness for seeing someone he cares about. Had I ruined this?
Rengoku clears his throat. "In the effort of honesty, I believe that Y/N is upset with me and I am trying to give them space. I wish you hadn't grabbed them, Tanjiro."
You and Tanjiro both stiffen. He thought you were upset with him, and he was giving you space? That was such a Rengoku move, but through your emotion you couldn't see it.
You're about to stammer out a reply when Tanjiro bursts out laughing, drawing both of your attention to him.
"Kamado, this doesn't seem very appropriate for the conversation." The Hashira says, and you can't help but agree.
Tanjiro laughs for a moment more before he calms himself. "I'm so sorry. Forgive me. But it is so comical to me that you think she could be mad at you! You're both so madly in love with each other, it's palpable. Even if I couldn't smell strong emotions - I would know that you two were soulmates."
You suck in a breath, and its Kyojuro's turn to stiffen.
"You must be mistaken, Tanjiro. We are not interested in each other." The last part is hesitant, but you can't help it. Rengoku meets your eyes from across the table.
The young man looks floored. "Are you guys not engaged? Or at least dating?"
"No," Rengoku responds. "We certainly are not."
"Oh," Tanjiro pauses a moment. "But you're madly in love with each other. Why not?"
Your cheeks are burning scarlet down to your neck, you can feel the heat traveling as he continues on.
He could smell my love for Kyojuro? What an interesting and terrifying sense.
Wait, was he saying that Kyo also loves me?
"Tanjiro, maybe you-"
"Oh! Plus, there's a whole poll among the other Hashira of when you will get married. I thought maybe it was a long engagement and people were giving guesses! You seem like such a great couple, and you're clearly in love."
My head hits the table, a groan of embarrassment escaping me. "You're telling me that everyone knew but us?"
It's silent for a moment before Kyojuro's laugh booms across the restaurant.
"Well, what a way for my feelings to be confessed. What do you say, my love?"
My head lifts and those wildfire eyes are on me. "Huh?"
"You and me? Seems like it's a done deal. I would be lucky." He says, tilting his head a bit.
You stammer for just a moment. "In front of Kamado?"
"I can go to the other table."
"Seems as though that he knows more than we want him to, anyway."
Giyuu Tomioka
You weren't a demon slayer. You weren't a part of the corp at all, instead running your own bakery in the small town that borders the corps headquarters.
Maybe that's what drew Giyuu to you. But once he had given in to his curiosity once, he couldn't stop himself from coming back. The first time he had entered your establishment, it was for a gift for the Master. He had taken ill again, and Tomioka didn't know a better way to show his well wishes.
You were radiant. A kind of sunshine and love that slapped the Water Hashira in the face, and something he hasn't felt from someone since. He was his usual stoic self throughout the interaction and you didn't let that deter you in the slightest - continuing on to give him recommendations and gush over your favorites. He left with a box full of pastries and a mind full of your smile.
He came back the following week. And the week after that. And every week that he was stationed at home for the next two months.
--
You feared that having a crush on a customer was probably the worst thing you could possibly do. Not only did it have to break some kind of business etiquette, there was no way that this gorgeous man was interested in more than the box of pastries he leaves with every week.
There are a few weeks he doesn't show at the usual time. Very few, but on the ones that have happened so far you've found yourself staying open a bit later. Hoping that maybe he just got sidetracked. You find yourself weirdly disappointed that you didn't see him that day. But then he returns the next week, a mysterious bruise on his clavicle, and a small smile on his face.
This week, the bell chimes at his regular time and you're already wearing a large smile when you turn and notice that he's brought a companion this time. A younger boy, with red hair and a kind smile.
"Morning, Mr. Tomioka. I see you've brought a friend."
Giyuu nods and gestures to him. "This is Tanjiro Kamado. He is.. an apprentice, of mine. I thought that he should try the treats."
Tanjiro nods. "Nice to meet you!"
You laugh lightly. "My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you too. Do we know what we want?"
You try your best to focus on Giyuu's order and not the blush that seems to be coloring the bottoms of his cheeks. Is he embarrassed for some reason? Maybe I was being a bit too much. I know I can be exuberant.
"I think that will be all. Thank you." Giyuu says as he finished his order, eyes anywhere but your own.
You nod. "I will be right back with that." You disappear into the back, hoping that you haven't done something to upset him.
When Giyuu turns to Tanjiro to double check that he doesn't want anything else, he turns to find the boy already staring at him with a curious expression.
"What is it?" Giyuu asks, confused by the look. Was he acting weird? Was his nervousness really so apparent?
"Nothing." Tanjiro bites out before a snicker, hand coming to cover his mouth.
Was this some kind of joke? Clearly it wasn't nothing.
"If something is wrong you can tell me."
"It's not that something is wrong. At least not with me."
Giyuu sighs, exasperated. "Can you just speak plainly?"
"I never knew you could have a crush! You're always so stoic and proper but you're really infatuated with this woman. And she is with you! How are you going to make a move?"
Giyuu reels back a bit, mouth agape. "W-what are you talking about?"
"You and Y/N-"
The door to the back of the eatery shuts with a small whoosh and both Tanjiro and Giyuu look over, wearing mortified expressions.
Your eyes are wide, pastries clutched to your chest.
"Y/N.." Giyuu starts.
"You're... interested in me?"
"I'll just take these." Tanjiro takes the boxes of sweets and walks away, giving the two of you space.
Giyuu swallows, all too aware of how unprepared he is for this. "I... I'm sorry if this is inappropriate. I didn't bring him in here like this to ambush you, I swear. He's just... perceptive."
Your shocked, for just a second, before the lightest feeling you've ever encountered takes over your body. You laugh, something light, and Giyuu almost melts.
"I think we should thank him. Seems we needed this push."
"Yeah. I suppose we did."
Sanemi Shinazugawa
Sanemi was frustrated to his core. No matter how many demons he slayed, Hashira's he sparred, miles he ran - you wouldn't leave him be. You haunted every moment of his being. From the training fields, where the lilt of your laugh floated on the breeze to him - to missions, where you inexplicably kept getting assigned to join him despite his insistence that he wants to work alone.
You were like an infection he couldn't kick, an addiction that was ruining him but he didn't want to kick. If asked, Sanemi couldn't even tell you why he was so obsessed. Unless he thought about it for a moment. About your smile, and mock cynicism, and the way you always laugh off your pain but know when it's time to have an important conversation, even if he hates it.
You're an enigma that's attached itself to him, and he doesn't want to be rid of you.
The night it happens is on a routine mission. Well, as routine as it can be when it requires two Hashira. There would be formidable opponents, but you and Sanemi were a match made in heaven. On the battlefield, at least.
You're both in the middle of a large clash when you both feel another presence joining the fray, and Sanemi audibly grumbles at the site of Tanjiro Kamado.
"Shinazugawa! Y/N! I was sent to help you finish up." He calls out, slashing through his own set of demons.
Rather than bitch, Sanemi just continues on his warpath. Channeling his annoyance at the brat and confusion over you into his swings, cutting down anything that stands between him and the end.
The fight lasts an hour, and the three of you waste no time traveling to the nearest Wistera House for rest.
You're sat at a table eating some food together before you call it a night, the clink of your chopsticks the only sounds in the room.
That is, before Tanjiro speaks up.
"Shinazugawa do you think that you can get me seconds? That demon really slashed my leg, I don't want to hobble into the kitchen." He asks sweetly, holding out his bowl. You're astounded by his gall but to your surprise, and despite his eye twitching, Sanemi snatches the bowl from his hands and stalks from the room.
"Forgive me," Tanjiro says, turning to you. You turn slightly toward him as well, brows raised. "I just didn't know if we would get a chance to talk."
"What do you need to talk about, Tanjiro? Is everything okay?"
"Why do you hide your love for Shinazugawa?"
You cough a bit, putting a hand to your chest. "Excuse me?"
"I understand why he isn't honest with you, he's a bit emotionally stunted I think. I also don't think that he believes he deserves love. But you've always been very open. Excuse me for assuming, I just thought that you would love loudly. These are such dark times, I can't help but try and nurture the sparks of light that I see."
I'm shocked, silent, and unsure of how to respond. How could he possibly know any of that? He also insinuated that Sanemi was also interested. Had he talked to him?
"How do you know that, Tanjiro? I've never told anyone. Even Mitsuri."
He points to his nose, a large smile on his face. "My sense of smell is for more than just tracking. I'm sorry if it feels like an invasion, but I just had to ask."
"That's okay-"
Sanemi steps into the room, shoving the filled bowl at the younger boy. "Out. Now."
"Sanemi-" You begin, but he's staring Tanjiro down.
"I said move, kid. You've done enough."
Tanjiro nods, standing and gathering his things. "Have a good night!" And he escapes out of the shoji doors.
All of that intense energy is focused on you then. Energy that you love. You adored how passionate he was, about everything, even if it didn't always stem from the healthiest things.
"So, you're into me?" He asks, folding his arms over his bare chest.
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the burning of your cheeks. "You should consider yourself very lucky."
Shades of Blue — Chapter Six
AN INCH OF BLUE STEEL
"Come, Giyu said, his voice softer now, a gentle invitation to leave the darkness behind. I am taking you to your new home."
✦ Pairing — [Giyu x Reader]
✦ Rating — T
✦ Warnings/Tropes - [Protective Giyu, Runaway Reader, Yoshiwara District, Oiran Reader, Artist Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Badass Giyu, Giyu is Bad at Feelings, He Thinks Love is a Fever, Touch-Starved, He literally buys her freedom, Mutual Pining]
✦ Table of Contents
—— ✦ ———
Chapter Six: An Inch of Blue Steel
In the bright, unforgiving light of the mid-morning sun, the entertainment district lost all its artificial, seductive magic.
Without the warm glow of the red paper lanterns to soften the edges, the towering wooden buildings looked like rotting teeth. The streets were littered with the remnants of the previous night's debauchery. Sweepers pushed brooms lazily over the cobblestones, clearing away discarded sake cups, torn scraps of silk, and the scent of cheap perfume mixed with stale alcohol. It was a bleak and miserable place in the daylight.
Your disguise was completely useless out here in the open. The oversized, stolen male attendant's clothes hung awkwardly on your delicate frame. Your hastily chopped hair exposed the elegant curve of your neck and the distinct, cloud-shaped birthmark. People were already beginning to stare. Passing merchants paused their carts, their eyes trailing over your flawless face. A face like yours, carefully maintained with expensive creams and shielded from the harsh sun for years, did not belong to a common errand boy.
You felt naked.
You felt as though the word ‘runaway’ was painted across your forehead in bright red ink. You shrank in on yourself, your hands gripping the strap of your canvas sack until your knuckles turned stark white.
Giyu noticed the shift in your posture immediately. He didn't offer any empty words of comfort. Instead, he smoothly adjusted his position, moving to walk slightly ahead and to the left of you. His shoulders acted as a shield, breaking the line of sight between you and the curious onlookers. His hand rested naturally near the hilt of his Nichirin blade. He projected an aura of unapproachable danger that caused the staring merchants to quickly avert their eyes and hurry along.
"Keep your eyes on the ground," Giyu instructed, his voice anchoring you to the present moment. "We are almost at the eastern gate."
You nodded, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. The walk felt like a march to the executioner's block, but his presence kept your legs from collapsing entirely.
At the eastern entrance, standing beneath the shadow of the massive wooden archway, were two figures dressed in dark, unfamiliar uniforms. Their faces were obscured by dark veils, revealing only their wide, anxious eyes. Between them sat a massive, iron-bound blue trunk. Circling high above them, squawking loudly was Kanzaburo.
The two Kakushi straightened up immediately as Giyu approached. They bowed so quickly and deeply, they nearly slammed their heads into the heavy iron trunk. But as they rose, their eyes darted from Giyu to you, taking in your ragged clothes and your striking beauty. Their postures radiated a frantic energy. They looked like men who had just witnessed a priest kick a dog.
"Tomioka-sama," the taller Kakushi greeted, his voice muffled and tight behind his mask. "We secured the funds from your personal vault, exactly as requested. We made the journey as fast as possible. Though I must admit, the message we received from your Kasugai crow caused quite a panic at the estate."
Giyu stopped, his expression remaining blank. "What exactly did Kanzaburo say?"
The shorter Kakushi shifted his weight uncomfortably, gesturing nervously toward you. "Well, sir. The crow flew into the courtyard screaming at the top of its lungs. He announced that the Water Hashira was heading directly to the Yoshiwara red-light district to purchase a woman for the night. He demanded we empty your vaults to pay for her. The entire estate heard him."
All the blood drained from your face in a rush as a sickening wave of mortification washed over you. The misunderstanding was catastrophic.
Because of you, and because of this ancient bird, Giyu's subordinates genuinely believed he was a lecherous man marching into a brothel to buy a prostitute. You were tarnishing the reputation of the most honourable, selfless man you had ever met. You wanted the dirt beneath your sandals to open up and swallow you forever. You ducked your head, your face burning with intense shame.
But Giyu didn’t break his stoic facade. His facial muscles didn’t even twitch, and his blue eyes remained level. However, the tips of his ears betrayed him, flushing a bright, burning shade of red. He tilted his head back slightly, shooting a murderous glare up at the circling crow. Kanzaburo wisely stopped his squawking and flew much higher into the safety of the clouds.
"The crow is senile," Giyu stated flatly, his voice carrying an edge. "I am not purchasing a companion for pleasure. I am clearing a legal debt to secure this woman's permanent freedom from her abusers. She requires immediate safe passage to the Butterfly Mansion after the transaction is complete. You will correct the rumours the second you return."
The two Kakushi visibly sagged, a wave of relief washing over their bodies.
"Oh, thank the gods," the taller Kakushi sighed, pressing a hand to his chest. "We thought you had lost your mind, sir. We understand the situation completely now."
Though relieved of the scandalous implications, the two men exchanged a bewildered look. The Water Hashira was famously detached from the world. He kept to himself, spoke very little, and never interfered in civilian affairs unless a demon was actively involved. Emptying his personal vaults and travelling to the Yoshiwara for a woman he had just met was wildly out of character. It was an unprecedented display of emotion and effort. But looking at the serious set of Giyu's jaw, neither man dared to voice their surprise or question his orders.
Giyu turned his attention back to the trunk. "Lift it. We are moving to her house."
The Kakushi scrambled to obey. They each grabbed an iron handle on the sides of the blue trunk. They braced their legs and hauled upward. You watched as the veins popped in their necks. They grunted loudly, their boots scraping against the dirt as they struggled to lift the chest off the ground.
Your heart hammered in your chest. That trunk was filled with yen, and the reality of the fortune he was spending on you made a pool of guilt well in your belly. It was too much. You were just a runaway, a nobody. You didn't feel worth the backbreaking effort these men were exerting, let alone the massive sum of money locked inside that wood. You opened your mouth to protest, to beg him to reconsider and just let you figure this out on your own, but Giyu caught your eye. He gave you a single, firm nod. The debate was over.
You pointed a trembling finger down the main thoroughfare, guiding them toward the house you had fled.
The walk through the district was a march through your own personal purgatory. Every familiar alleyway, every closed wooden lattice window, brought a fresh wave of nausea. You recognised the scent of the specific incense burning outside the teahouses. You recognised the colourful banners hanging from the balconies. The terror felt like it was pressing down on your chest, stealing the oxygen from your lungs. As you approached the imposing, multi-story front of your house, your knees nearly buckled.
The sliding doors were thrown wide open to the street, and from inside the grand entryway, angry, shrill voices echoed outward, shattering the quiet morning air.
"Useless! Every single one of you is completely useless!" the madam shrieked. Her voice grated against your eardrums. "She is a pampered, weak little doll! She couldn't have made it past the forest in the rain! Where are those pathetic thugs I paid to drag her back? I want her found, and I want her stripped and beaten in the streets!"
You stumbled, your legs refusing to support your weight for another step. Giyu was there instantly. His hand shot out, gripping your shoulder before looking down at you with those calm blue eyes. He didn't speak, but his touch communicated everything you needed to know. He meant what he said. He would not let anyone touch you.
Giyu stepped through the grand doorway first, taking the lead. You followed right on his heels, using his body as a shield. The two Kakushi squeezed in behind you, hauling the large trunk and effectively sandwiching you in a protective formation.
The interior of the house was a chaotic mess. Terrified attendants scrambled around the polished wooden floors, attempting to clean up the shattered teacups the madam had thrown in her rage. Several of the lower-ranking prostitutes peeked out from behind the sliding paper screens, their eyes wide with fear. In the corner, kneeling quietly by the wall with a broom in her hands, was the young attendant girl who had caught you escaping. She kept her head bowed, having bravely kept your secret safe from the madam's wrath.
The madam stood in the centre of the room. She was a terrifying woman, clad in a lavish silk kimono, her face heavily painted with thick white powder and vibrant red lipstick. Sharp, expensive hairpins jutted from her elaborate hairstyle.
She whipped around at the sound of heavy footsteps entering her domain. Her furious tirade died instantly in her throat. Her sharp, calculating eyes darted from the armed swordsman to the masked Kakushi, to the blue trunk they carried.
Then, her gaze shifted past Giyu's shoulder, and she locked eyes with you.
Her painted lips curled into an ugly snarl. "You little rat," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom.
She lunged forward, her hands outstretched, fully intending to grab you by your hair and drag you to the floor.
But Giyu moved faster than she could blink. He stepped directly into her path, placing his body between you and the enraged woman. He rested his right hand casually on the hilt of his Nichirin katana. He didn't draw the blade, but the pressure he released filled the room instantly. The air grew cold, and the threat of violence radiating from him was heavy.
The madam froze in her tracks, her survival instincts screaming at her to back away from the terrifying man with the mismatched haori. She lowered her hands slowly, as her chest heaved with fury.
"I am here to settle her accounts," Giyu stated as he jerked his head in your direction.
The attendants gasped collectively. The women hiding behind the screens whispered frantically to one another, completely flabbergasted by the scene unfolding in their entryway. No one simply walked into the Yoshiwara and demanded to settle an Oiran's enormous debt.
The madam quickly recovered her composure, letting out a mocking laugh that grated on your nerves. "What kind of trickery is this?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked past Giyu, fixing her hateful stare on you. "Is this the fool you ran off with? Is this the man you foolishly committed ashinuke for?"
She turned her attention back to Giyu, looking him up and down with open disdain. She took in his dusty uniform and the strange, patched haori. "I don't recognise your handsome face in the Yoshiwara, swordsman. But you are making a grave mistake. You have no idea who you are dealing with. Her debts are an exorbitant amount. She inherited a mountain of liabilities from her worthless mother, plus the cost of her food, her board, her training, and her clothes. A vagabond like you could never afford her. She is my property."
Giyu didn’t react to the insults. He simply glanced over his shoulder at the two sweating Kakushi.
"Drop the chest," Giyu ordered.
The Kakushi immediately let go of the iron handles. The blue trunk slammed into the wooden floorboard with a thunderous thud. The sheer force of the impact cracked the thick wood beneath the trunk and sent splinters flying everywhere.
The madam flinched as her eyes widened in shock.
Giyu gracefully knelt down, flicked the iron clasps open with his thumbs, before throwing the thick lid back.
The entire room collectively stopped breathing.
The trunk was packed to the brim with neatly bound, towering stacks of yen. It was a staggering amount of money. It was a small fortune, enough to buy the brothel and burn it all to the ground. You stared at the paper, absolutely speechless. You knew he was wealthy, but seeing the reality of his promise laid bare on the cracked floorboards shattered your expectations entirely. You had never seen that much money in your life.
The madam's jaw was practically unhinged. Her calculating eyes locked onto the trunk, captivated by the fortune sitting in her entryway. The cruel mockery vanished from her face instantly, replaced by a fawning respect. She recognised raw power when she saw it, and the man before her wielded a level of wealth that demanded immediate reverence.
She hurriedly smoothed the front of her silk kimono, bowing her head deeply toward Giyu. "My deepest apologies, sir. I did not realise I was speaking to a man of such immense standing. I spoke out of turn."
She took a step closer to the chest, her eyes gleaming with greed. But as she looked at the money, her gaze flicked back to you. The hatred she harboured for you burned hot and bright. She had despised your mother. She hated your mother's beauty, her grace, and her popularity, and that bitter jealousy had transferred directly to you the moment you were born. The thought of you walking away from her control, rescued by this wealthy, powerful saviour, made her itch with spite. She didn't want you to win. She didn't think you deserved the effort this mysterious man was giving you.
"Sir, if you are looking to purchase a woman for your time, you have brought far more than necessary," the madam continued, her voice dripping with fake, sugary sweetness. "This girl you have brought back is damaged goods. She is rebellious, ungrateful, and already used. For this price, I can offer you someone much better. I will give you one of my virgin girls. No, I will give you three of them! Fresh, obedient, and eager to please a man of your stature. You can take them right now, and I will lock this rat back in the cellar where she belongs."
Giyu looked at the woman, disgust twisting his features. The casual and callous way she bartered human lives, tossing young girls around as if they were cheap commodities to sweeten a deal, sickened him to his core.
"I am not buying a prostitute," Giyu stated, his voice laced with contempt. He stood back up to his full height, towering over the madam. "I am paying for her permanent freedom. Take the money you are owed and wipe her name from your ledgers forever."
The madam ground her teeth together, her painted smile straining under the intensity of his glare. "Sir, it isn't that simple. I cannot just let her walk away. She was already bought out. A very wealthy client secured her company for the next six months. He paid a premium price in advance. I cannot simply hand her over to you without violating that contract."
"The money in that chest more than covers his refund," Giyu countered smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument or negotiation. "Give him his money back. If he has a problem with the arrangement, tell him he can take it up with me."
The madam stared at the fortune sitting on her floor. Her mind raced. To turn down that amount of yen would be financial suicide. The money in the trunk covered your entire inherited debt, the merchant's refund, and still left enough profit to satisfy her greed . It was the best deal she would ever see in her lifetime. But her pride still rebelled. She hated the idea of you being free. She hated seeing you rewarded for breaking her rules. She opened her mouth, ready to swallow her bitter pride and accept the fortune before the swordsman changed his mind.
"Absolutely not!" a booming, furious voice roared from the entrance of the house.
Everyone in the room, except Giyu, jumped, turning toward the open sliding doors. Standing on the threshold, blocking the morning sunlight, was Sadao, the wealthy merchant. His face was red, bloated, and slick with sweat. He had spent the entire night tearing the district apart, furious that the beautiful prize he had paid for had slipped through his fingers and made a fool of him.
Sadao marched heavily into the room, his expensive silk robes swishing aggressively around his ankles. He took one look at your jagged hair and oversized boy's clothes, his face twisting into a snarl. Then, he turned his furious gaze upon Giyu.
"I overheard everything from the street!" Sadao bellowed, pointing a thick, gold-ringed finger directly at the madam. "This is completely unacceptable! That girl is my property! I paid for her body, and she belongs in my bed for the next six months! No one else is taking her!"
He turned his attention to Giyu, stepping closer and sneering at the mismatched fabric of the haori. Sadao was a man used to getting exactly what he wanted through intimidation and wealth, and he had no idea he was currently yelling at one of the deadliest swordsmen in the country.
"And who the hell do you think you are?" Sadao shouted, his voice echoing off the wooden walls. "You think you can just march into the Yoshiwara with a sword and steal what is legally mine? You freak! You look like a patched-up beggar!"
Sadao spun back to the madam, his face turning an ugly, mottled shade of purple. "If you accept this beggar's money, I will ensure this house never sees another coin of business! I will tell every merchant in the capital that you break your contracts! I will ruin your reputation and burn your livelihood to the ground!"
The madam gasped, taking a frightened step backwards. The threat of losing all her wealthy clientele was terrifying, even with the chest of yen sitting on the floor.
You stood behind Giyu, trembling with anxiety and fear as the sound of Sadao's voice brought all the horrific memories crashing back into your mind. The smell of his stale breath, the bruising touch of his hands. You pressed yourself closer to Giyu's back, silently praying for the nightmare to end.
Giyu didn’t flinch at the merchant's loud insults. He kept his body firmly planted between you and the angry men in the room, his hand never leaving the hilt of his blade, his blue eyes cold and ready for whatever came next.
Sadao was a man accustomed to absolute obedience. In his world, coin was the ultimate authority, and he possessed enough of it to crush anyone who dared defy him.
He glared at Giyu, expecting the mismatched swordsman to cower under the weight of his booming voice. He expected him to step aside, apologize, and surrender the prize he had rightfully purchased.
But Giyu stood like an ancient stone pillar, his sandals rooted firmly to the polished wooden floorboards. He didn’t offer a retort or raise his voice to match the merchant's aggressive volume. He simply stared at Sadao with eyes as cold and unforgiving as a frozen lake. The absence of reaction from the slayer was a tactic more terrifying than any shouted threat. It communicated that Giyu didn’t view Sadao as a threat. He viewed him as an obstacle, and a minor one at that.
You remained tucked safely behind Giyu's back, your hands gripping the rough fabric of your canvas sack so tightly your knuckles ached. The sound of Sadao's voice made you want to shrink into the floorboards and disappear into the cracks of the wood, but Giyu’s presence anchored you in place. You stared at the back of his dark uniform, drawing strength from the steady rise and fall of his shoulders. He wasn’t backing down.
"Are you deaf, you patched-up stray?" Sadao bellowed as spit flew from his lips. "I told you to step aside! That woman is mine! I hold the contract. I paid the premium. She is going to walk out of this house with me, and if you try to interfere, I will have the capital guards throw you in a cell to rot!"
Giyu remained silent. His right hand rested lightly on the wrapped hilt of his katana. His thumb rested against the metal guard, a casual, relaxed posture that contrasted with the lethal intent simmering just beneath his skin.
The silence infuriated the merchant. Sadao wasn’t equipped to handle someone who refused to play by the rules of intimidation. He threw his hands up in the air, turning his furious gaze toward the madam, who was currently staring longingly at the open trunk of yen.
"Tell him!" Sadao roared, pointing a trembling finger at the woman. "Tell this beggar that the deal is done! If he touches her, it is theft! I will have his head for it!"
The madam swallowed hard, her eyes darting between the angry merchant, the fortune sitting on her floor, and the terrifying swordsman standing in her entryway. Her greed waged a war against her fear of losing Sadao's future business. But as she looked at Giyu's deadpan expression, she realized she had no power in this situation. She kept her mouth shut, taking a cautious step backward, refusing to intervene.
Realizing he was getting nowhere with his threats, Sadao's frustration boiled over into reckless anger. He decided to bypass the silent swordsman entirely. He set his sights on you. He could see your trembling frame hiding behind Giyu’s.
"Get over here right now!" Sadao barked as his eyes locked onto you.
He lunged forward, extending a meaty, ring-covered hand, aiming to bypass Giyu's shoulder and grab you by the collar of your stolen uniform drag you away.
Shing.
The sound was sharp, metallic, and incredibly loud in the tense quiet of the room. It cut through the air like a crack of thunder.
Sadao froze mid-step, his outstretched hand hovering mere inches from Giyu's shoulder.
Giyu hadn’t drawn the sword fully, only shifting his thumb and pushing the metal guard upward by an inch. But that single inch was more than enough. The brilliant blue steel of the Nichirin blade caught the sunlight pouring through the open doors. It gleamed and the temperature in the room plummeted instantly.
Sadao stared at the inch of exposed blue steel. The furious red flush drained from his face in a matter of seconds, leaving him a sickly gray. A thick bead of sweat formed at his temple, tracing a slow path down his cheek and dripping off his jaw.
At his core, Sadao was a coward. He was a man who hid behind hired muscle and heavy coin purses. He had never held a blade in his life, and he had certainly never faced a man who knew how to use one. Looking at the relaxed, effortless way Giyu held the weapon, and feeling the pressure radiating from the slayer, Sadao's self-preservation instincts finally overrode his entitled rage. He realized that if he moved his hand one inch closer to you, this silent man would sever it from his wrist without a second thought.
Sadao didn’t have his bodyguards with him. He was alone, unarmed, and standing inches away from a lethal predator.
Slowly and trembling, Sadao pulled his arm back. He took a stumbling, clumsy step backward, putting distance between himself and the glint of the blue katana. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
He needed to save face. He couldn’t just run away in front of the madam and the gathered attendants. He puffed his chest out, though the gesture lacked any real conviction.
"Fine!" Sadao spat, his voice cracking slightly under the strain of his fear. He turned his attention away from Giyu and glared fiercely at the madam. "If you want to run a lawless establishment, that is your choice! But you will return my money immediately! And I want it doubled for the immense inconvenience and the insult to my honor!"
The madam nodded frantically, eager to appease him and defuse the situation. "Yes, Sadao-sama. Of course. Right away."
Sadao turned his furious, humiliated gaze back to Giyu. He wanted to say something that would assert his dominance, but the cold, unblinking stare of the swordsman silenced him. Instead, Sadao hawked a thick wad of phlegm from his throat and spat it onto the polished wooden floor, right at the tip of Giyu's sandal.
He shot one final, venomous glare in your direction, his eyes promising retribution, and then he spun on his heel. His expensive silk robes swished loudly as he stormed out of the grand entryway, his footsteps echoing down the cobblestone street until he was entirely gone from sight.
You let out a shuddering breath as your knees buckled slightly. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead lightly against the back of Giyu's shoulder to steady yourself. He was actually gone. The monster who had haunted your every waking moment, the man who owned the rights to your body for the next six months, had just walked out the door and surrendered his claim.
The grand entryway was quiet in the wake of Sadao's dramatic exit. The attendants held their breath. The Kakushi stood rigid, still holding the heavy iron handles of the open trunk.
Giyu looked down at the spit resting near his sandal. His expression remained impassive, then he shifted his thumb, sliding the Nichirin blade back into its scabbard.
Click.
The sound of the sword locking into place seemed to break the spell cast over the room, allowing everyone to finally breathe again.
Giyu turned his eyes toward the madam. She was still staring at the doorway, her chest heaving with lingering adrenaline.
"The merchant has been refunded," Giyu stated, his voice steady and even. He gestured toward the massive trunk overflowing with stacked yen. "The rest of this fortune covers her inherited debt, her living expenses, and the cost of breaking her contract. The sum is vast enough to ensure you never speak her name again."
He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the terrified woman. He looked down at her, his gaze piercing right through her painted exterior.
"Do we have a deal?" Giyu asked.
The madam looked at the trunk, then up at the imposing swordsman. She knew she was beaten. She hated you, and she hated losing her prized Oiran, but she loved money far more than she loved revenge. She bowed her head, submitting to the overwhelming force standing in her foyer.
"We have a deal," the madam conceded, her voice tight but compliant. "Her ledgers will be burned today. She is no longer affiliated with this house. She is no longer property of the Yoshiwara."
The words hit you like a punch to the gut.
You felt the invisible chains shatter into a million pieces. The weight that had pressed down on your lungs since you were an eight-year-old girl sweeping these very floors vanished. You were not a commodity. You were not an investment. You were not a prisoner.
You were free.
You were truly, unbelievably free.
You couldn’t help it as a sudden sob tore its way out of your throat. The sound echoed in the quiet room, and you dropped your canvas sack onto the floor, not caring about the staring attendants. You didn't care about the madam's bitter glare. You didn't care about the rules of propriety or the strict social decorum you had spent your entire life mastering.
You looked at the quiet man standing a few feet away. Giyu had walked into hell, stared down demons of human greed, and bought your life with a fortune he claimed over a simple rice ball.
Before you could stop yourself, before your rational mind could interject and warn you about crossing boundaries, you moved.
You launched yourself forward, closing the short distance between you and threw your arms wide and wrapped them tightly around his torso. You buried your face directly into the center of his chest, pressing your cheek against the dark, sturdy fabric of his uniform. You squeezed him with all the meager strength you possessed, your fingers gripping the material of his haori as you sobbed.
The entire room inhaled sharply.
The taller Kakushi gasped so loudly he choked on his own saliva, his hands flying up to clutch the sides of his veiled head. The shorter Kakushi stumbled backward, his knees knocking together, looking as though he might faint from shock. The attendants covered their mouths.
Giyu turned into a statue.
He went as still as a block of winter ice. His brain simply ceased to function. Every single combat instinct, every breathing technique, every tactical strategy he had ever learned evaporated from his mind, replaced by a blaring void of absolute panic.
He had not been hugged since he was a child. The last person to hold him with this kind of desperate, protective affection was his older sister, Tsutako, right before she hid him away to die in his place. Since that day, his life had been defined by violence, isolation, and professional distance. He was a weapon forged in tragedy. He was touch-starved to a degree he didn't even comprehend, living in a world where physical contact meant either inflicting pain or receiving a fatal wound.
And now, you were holding him.
He felt the warmth of your body pressing against his uniform. He felt the rapid beating of your heart against his own ribs. He felt the damp heat of your tears soaking through the fabric of his clothes. It was an overwhelming flood of sensory information.
It felt incredibly strange. It felt foreign and terrifying.
But it also felt good.
It felt so warm and safe that it made his throat ache. His arms hung rigidly at his sides, stiff as wooden boards. He didn’t know where to put his hands. Should he push you away? Should he pat your back? Should he stand perfectly still until you finished? He stared wide-eyed at the opposite wall, his pulse skyrocketing.
His face felt like it was on fire. The fever was definitely reaching a critical, life-threatening stage. He was sweating. He was giddy, his chest tight with a bizarre, fluttering sensation that made him want to scoop you up and carry you away from this miserable district forever. The internal system failure was catastrophic. He was the Water Hashira, a master of calm and fluid adaptation, yet he was currently being dismantled by a weeping woman.
You didn't want to let him go. The solid strength of his chest was the safest place you had ever known. You had no words to thank him. You had no riches to offer him in return. You only had this overwhelming gratitude pouring out of you in endless waves of tears. You cried for your mother, for the years you lost, and for the beautiful future sitting right in front of you.
Finally, after seconds of rigid panic, Giyu's brain managed to reboot.
He needed to offer comfort. That was the logical response to a crying civilian. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing sharply. Hesitantly, he raised his right arm. It felt heavy, as if he were lifting a boulder. He brought his hand down, letting his palm rest gently on the top of your hair.
He gave you a stiff, incredibly awkward pat. Then another.
"It is fine," Giyu murmured, his voice strained. "You are safe now."
The gentle, albeit robotic, pats on your head brought you back to reality. The haze of emotional release began to clear, replaced by a sudden, mortifying awareness of your surroundings. You were clinging to a highly respected man in front of an audience. You could hear the muffled, frantic whispering of the Kakushi behind you.
You stopped your sobbing, drawing a shaky breath. You loosened your death grip on his haori and slowly tilted your head back to look up at him.
Giyu was looking down at you. His face was still locked in that flawless, unreadable expression of stoic calm, but the illusion was shattered by the vibrant, burning red color painting the tips of his ears and creeping down his neck.
The second your tear-filled eyes met his blue ones, he looked away. He snapped his gaze back to the far wall, his jaw tightening as he desperately tried to suppress the warmth blooming in his chest. His fever was getting severe. He needed Shinobu’s medical expertise immediately. He was probably contagious.
You pulled away quickly, taking a large step backward. You wiped your wet cheeks with your rough sleeves, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over you.
"I am so sorry, Tomioka-san!" you stammered, bowing your head in a frantic apology. "I didn't mean to overstep. I was just… I am just so grateful. I didn't know how else to thank you. Please forgive my lack of manners."
"It is fine," Giyu repeated quickly. He cleared his throat, adjusting the collar of his uniform in a rare display of nervous energy. He kept his eyes averted, staring at the wooden floorboards. "You do not need to apologize."
He took a steadying breath, forcefully shoving the overwhelming emotions into a tight, locked box in the back of his mind. He needed to focus on the mission. The transaction was complete. The merchant was gone. The madam was appeased. There was absolutely no reason for them to remain in this house for a single second longer.
He turned back to face you, his professional demeanor somewhat restored, though his ears remained stubbornly pink.
"Go and pack your things," Giyu instructed, his voice returning to its steady, commanding rumble. "Gather whatever you need from your room."
You looked at him, wiping the last stray tear from your chin. "My room?"
"Yes," Giyu nodded. "We are leaving. We need to begin the journey before sundown."
You hesitated, looking around the entryway, then down at the canvas sack resting near your feet. Inside that sack were your bamboo brushes, your vibrant pigments, the crushed-flower portrait of the man standing before you, the heavy pouch of coins he had given you, and your mother's silver hairpin.
You looked back up at Giyu. A small, but radiant smile broke across your face.
"I don't need to go to my room," you said softly. "Everything I own is right here in this bag. There is nothing in this house I want to take with me."
The expensive silk kimonos, the bronze mirrors, the ornate combs, they all belonged to the Oiran. They belonged to a ghost. You were just a painter now. You were a free woman, and you were traveling light.
Giyu looked at your smiling face, and he felt that strange, terrifying thump in his chest once more. He didn't understand it, but as he looked at the joy radiating from you, he decided he didn't mind the fever all that much.
"Understood," Giyu said, giving a nod. He turned to the two Kakushi, who were still recovering from the shock of the embrace. "Leave the trunk. The transaction is concluded."
The Kakushi bowed deeply, though they still cast bewildered glances between you and the Water Hashira. Only the Water Estate had heard Kanzaburo's botched message, and this sudden, intimate display was doing absolutely nothing to convince them that the crow was entirely wrong.
Giyu stepped toward the open sliding doors, the bright morning sun catching the crimson and geometric patterns of his haori. He paused at the threshold, turning his head slightly to look back at you.
"Come," Giyu said, his voice softer now, a gentle invitation to leave the darkness behind. "I am taking you to your new home."
To Be Continued...
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Sanemi is physically escorted from your room three times by Gyomei, who was the only one strong enough to do it. Sanemi fought tooth and nail both times, the torrent of emotions ripping through him keeping any rational thought at a distance.
Shinobu and the others needed space to work, but as far as the Wind Hashira was concerned, he needed to be right there to wrestle your soul back into your body if you tried to leave.
You did try to leave. Multiple times. Not that it's a choice you would've made.
You couldn't stay conscious, and you weren't even sure if you wanted to. Every bout of awareness came with pain you had never felt before. Was this death? An infinite cycle between the void and pain? It was miserable.
The worst part was being able to hear him. Sanemi. He came to you in those moments, whether he was demanding something from a medic regarding you or whispering something as soft as he was capable in your ear - every brief contact was the sweetest heaven and torture.
Stuck in this in between and unable to actually move, there was no reassuring him. You hated the broken way he was speaking, the devastation that was lurking just beneath the surface.
You couldn't leave him like this. He had saved you countless times, you couldn't allow him to suffer this way.
You needed to wake up, pain be damned.
-
Sanemi had been sitting in the same chair for roughly thirty hours. He moved three times for different reasons, but was never gone for more than a minute each. Once he was told he could be with you, nothing was going to be able to keep him away.
He didn't sleep, just watched the rise and fall of your battered chest. Your eyelids fluttered every so often, and he took at least a bit of comfort in the fact that you were active in there somewhere.
You would wake up soon.
-
The sunlight was harsh, forcing you to close your eyes against it instantly. You didn't know how long you'd been unconscious, but the sun proved that it had been at least a day.
You were alive. Battered and aching but alive.
"Y/N?"
You almost don't hear him, that presence at your side. It's the quietest he's ever spoken to you. Sanemi's normally blood shot eyes have darkened even more, the bags underneath them giving him a gaunt look. Both of his hands are clutching the blanket at your side, his jaw feathering.
You blink a moment, cataloguing what pieces of you are the most broken before you sit up.
His hands rise instantly to your shoulders. "What are you doing, idiot!? Don't try and sit up. You nearly had a hole punched through you, I mean, come on!"
It does twinge, and you had expected a lot more agony - but either you were numb or healing remarkably, but you were not going to question it either way.
Pushing against his grip is easy, seeing as he's trying to be light as a feather, and you push yourself into his arms instead. It takes him a moment to release the tension in his muscles, but soon those arms are wrapped around you.
"Y/N." Quiet again.
"I'm here."
Iguro Obanai
Live for me.
You want to, desperately.
You kakushi arrive as a numbness is settling over you, one you're trying your hardest to stave away. Numb wasn't good. Numb meant death. You needed the pain, as excruciating as it was.
Obanai was hissing orders at the men who looked much too nervous for his liking.
"Why are you cowering, kid?" Obanai demanded. "Can you even work efficiently?"
"Iguro." The Serpent Hashira's head jerks at the sound of his name, and there stands Shinobu Kocho.
"Shinobu..." His pleas is unspoken.
"Give me some space."
--
Obanai sits in the corner of your room while everyone bustles around. Shinobu knew better than to try and remove him, while he knew it was better to stay quiet and be able to stay close. Their focus needed to be on you.
His fellow Hashira and the others had left the room quite some time ago. He monitored your breathing and while it was steady, it was a bit too slow for his liking.
He's debating getting Shinobu and asking her to look you over when the woman pushes open your door herself.
"Can you join me in the hall, Obanai?"
His veins ice over, that nameless terror gripping him again - but he stands and exits the room with one last look at you.
"What is it?"
The woman's smile is kind, but it does nothing to assuage Iguro's nerves. "I think that Y/N will be just fine. Though, when she wakes, it's important she doesn't move much. She's likely to be startled. Most of our warriors wake up swinging from these kinds of rests. You need to make sure that she doesn't harm herself further, her stitches are precarious."
He nods resolutely. "Of course, thank you." He turns to re-enter the room but pauses slightly. "Do we know when she might wake up?"
"No, we don't."
--
The answer is ten hours later. He senses the shift in your breathing first, your body making the switch from sleeping to awake.
Obanai was at your side in an instant, his hands coming down to rest on your already tense upper arms. "Are you awake?"
Your whole body is clenched beneath his hands. The last thing you remembered was bleeding out on the floor, so how was it that you were awake in a bed? You had to get up. Figure out what was going on.
"Y/N."
Your name stills your trembling, senses giving way to the presence that was your husband draped over you.
"Obi?"
His exhale contains his soul. "Yes. Shinobu said you need to try not to move much, it could injure you further."
You relax all the way, sinking back into the bed. You search his mutli-colored eyes, finding something sad that pulled at your stomach there.
"Are you okay?"
He laughs, the sound devoid of humor. "You cannot seriously be asking me if I'm alright when you just got pulled back from death."
"Can't I be concerned for my husband?"
"Yes, you may be concerned about my heart as well then. You almost took it with you."
Giyuu Tomioka
Giyuu's voice had followed you into the void, your injuries threatening to take you somewhere that he couldn't bring you back from - but his voice was also the first you heard when your eyes opened against the early evening light.
"Y/N, sweetheart, can you hear me?"
You can feel his energy to one side of you, and it takes all of the strength you'd reserved in your sleep to turn your head the other way. "Yes, Giyuu."
The relief on his face is a palpable thing, his eyes shone with unshed tears.
"Thank god. I had no idea if I was going to look into these eyes again." He was leaned close to you, a hand coming up to swipe away some of the sweat soaked hair at your forehead. "How're you feeling?"
"Like I was crushed in multiple places and stabbed a few times."
"Good to know that your humor hasn't escaped you." A brief kiss to your temple. "Really. Where does it hurt the most right now? Can you feel everything?"
I take a moment, swallowing against the pain that lances through each of my limbs as I move them. "It seems like everything is listening. My left leg hurts most, just under the knee. And my head is pounding."
He stands quickly, reaching to the other side of your bed and acquiring a cup. "You probably need a lot of hydration."
Giyuu sits on his knees beside you again, holding the back of your head gently while he lifts the cup to your lips. "Steady."
You get a few gulps and cough lightly as he pulls back, the pain in your chest beating. "Thank you."
He doesn't reply. One of his hands is clenching your own, the other lost somewhere in the tendrils of your hair. He's just watching, those deep sea eyes just taking you in.
"I almost lost you."
"You could never."
Tengen Uzui
Tengen is still coated in your blood when Shinobu tells him that if you can make it through the night, you will make it overall.
She politely ignores when she stands out in the rain for five minutes to let his tears flow.
He spends the rest of the night at your bedside, a firm hand on yours and his weapons sitting just to the side - ready to be wielded at a moments notice. He was still on that battlefield. An invisible foe grappling for your life and there was nothing he could do but be ready to strike when he got the chance.
But he would never get the chance. This was your fight. He couldn't be your backup, or shield you from these blows.
It's the hardest thing he's ever done.
Shinobu appears at some point in the night to check on your vitals.
"How is she?"
"She's holding steady. I have every reason to believe she's going to make it through the night."
Tengen only nods, eyes not leaving you.
"It's important to know that she won't be able to speak when she wakes. There was damage to her vocal chords that will take time to heal. I'll fetch a pen and paper so she can communicate, but be sure to encourage her to stay silent for her healing." With that, she's out the door.
Tengen files the information away, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. As long as you woke up, everything else could be handled.
--
His hearing allows him to know you're waking from the changes in your heartbeat. His grip tightens on your hand, and he's quick to begin to console you.
"Well hi there, sweetheart. This is all very flashy of you, you know. Hospital scenes are the best ones in the plays." He's still rubbing at your hand while your eyes struggle to focus on him, your lips parting just a bit. "Don't try and speak, baby. Bastard got your neck good. You need to rest your voice."
You close your mouth, instantly frustrated that you can't ask your questions but he must see that in your gaze.
"Shinobu brought you a pen and paper to talk, but I can assume most of what you need. Your neck has some stitches, and some internal things got banged up - namely your vocal chords - but other than that most of your wounds are superficial. We need to be gentle with you, but you should be fine. You have to stick to some liquids for a bit because of the damage - but that's the worst of it."
You lean back into your pillow, closing your eyes for a moment. That was good. Great, even. You were sure that you weren't going to wake back up - but Tengen's large hand in yours was very real.
He waits a moment before speaking again. "I was terrified, beautiful. I am begging you to never do that again." You almost roll your eyes at him but the earnest look on his face stops you dead.
You squeeze his hand instead, offering the best smile you can.
"I'll take that as an affirmative. While we're at it, maybe I'll just never leave your side. Make sure you keep that promise."
Kyojuro Rengoku
The pain is almost blinding despite Kyojuro's best attempts not to jostle your body too much. The debris and people are too much for him to navigate too carefully, your blood soaking into the front of his shirt spurring him to move even faster.
Your arms are wrapped behind his beck for balance but you're slowly losing strength, jaw clenched to try and keep your grip solid.
"I can't hold on, Kyo."
His own heart almost stops. He can hear the double meaning in that. That your grip both on his neck and this life were slipping.
He adjusts his hold, a bit more secure. "You can let go of my neck, Sunshine. I've got you."
Your arms drop and your leaning heavier into his chest, eyesm fluttering. The next few minutes pass in a blur for you. Rengoku is moving you as quickly as possible to the medical tent, and when he arrives he is spouting orders with all of the authority of a general.
You're pulled back into your body when someone presses harshly on your wound, a small yelp leaving you.
"I know, my flame, but they must stop this bleeding." Your husband is knelt by your head, a calming hand on your shoulder while he surveys the scene playing out around him. "Hold onto me, I will take your pain."
You don't have the strength to hold onto him, but you still wrap your hand around his to ground yourself. The fear and pain were mixing into a volatile cocktail inside of you.
"I'm scared, Kyo." Your voice is small, a shiver out of your body. There is no fear in his eyes when you meet them, though. Only raw determination.
"That's okay, darling. You let that fear go, I'll take it. Feel your way through it and back to me. You're going to be just fine."
His words are a balm, as they always are. You swallow thickly, wincing against the ministrations of the kakushi.
"Rengoku, sir. The worst of her injuries are being treated. Would you like us to give her some sedative?"
Kyojuro glances to you briefly but realizes you're in no space to make the decision. "If it is safe and would improve her comfort ability, of course."
You succumb to the darkness within minutes.
--
When you wake, Kyojuro is still touching you. It was night time, the chirp of crickets and chill night air blowing through the window across the room. Your partner was very much awake, his patient gaze fixed on you.
"Hello, my flame." His usually boisterous voice is gentle, brows furrowed.
"Kyo." The plea in your voice is all it takes for him to wrap you in his arms, careful not to pull at any of the stitches placed throughout your body.
You melt into him, tears forming against your wishes. One of his hands is at the back of your head, rubbing a soothing pattern.
"It's going to be okay." He promises.
You soften in his arms, breath you'd been holding in your throat shaking loose. You had been terrified. You knew exactly what this job entailed, but when it came to the very real possibility of not getting to live this life - you weren't ready.
Maybe it wouldn't have mattered a few years ago. A new Hashira with a chip on your shoulder and something to prove. You only lived for justice, uncaring of the toll your duty took on your mind and body.
Things were different now. Rengoku had awoken something in you that you didn't think you had the capability to feel anymore. Hope. Optimism.
You two had plans. A nice home near a river, with room for a child or two and for his brother if he needs a place to stay. Places for you two to travel. Actually travel. Enjoy the area without constantly being on the alert for a threat.
Sensing your thoughts, he pulls you tighter against him. "I know. We're still here."
Gyomei Himejima
Gyomei sits vigil over you for nearly four days before you wake. He doesn't move. Refuses both water and food when it is offered, despite the tears constantly cascading down his face. He prays. To whoever might be listening, he does not care. This wrong would be rectified. You would wake. You had to.
There was no choice.
So he sat and he waited. He pictured the two of you together at your favorite spots. The scents of freshly baked bread around you in downtown, the sounds of the water lapping at the shore at the coast.
When your eyes opened, his were close. You knew better thank to think he was resting though. His lips were moving just the slightest, a sign of his prayer.
"Gyo." You breathe, wincing against the cut on your forehead.
His eyes snap open, a few stray tears sluicing down his cheeks. "My light." He's quick to envelope on of your hands in his. "How are you feeling? Shall I call Miss Kocho in to check on you?"
"No." You reply, bringing your other hand to rest on the cocoon he had created with his. "I'm very sore, but I'm okay. Are you?"
He chuckles, a sound from deep within his chest. "Leave it to you, my most pure of heart, to ask me after me as you lay here injured."
"But are you?" Your grip tightens as much as it can. You worry after him. Your rock of a man. Always weathering the storm for everyone else but lacking anyone to protect him from the elements.
"With your beautiful eyes open, I am more than okay."
Your smile is small, but real. You were lucky to be gazing upon his handsome face again. You would never take another moment of that for granted.
You risk a glance at yourself and see the copious amounts of bandages wrapped around your body. The skin that is exposed is mottled with bruises, small cuts spread throughout.
You wince, setting your head back down. "I guess I'm not going to be much to look at anymore." Your chuckle is wry.
Gyomei gasps quietly, hands clenching subtly. "I must insist that you do not speak of yourself in that manner. Every scar is a testament to your strength and loyalty. Do not condemn them, but embrace them. As I will."
Your eyes slide closed, exhaustion outweighing sensible thought at the moment. "You're right. Thank you."
"There is no need to thank me for loving you, Y/N. It is my greatest honor."
